


Voices

by SpaceAlienBoy



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut maybe, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Other, Polyamory, Reader is Nonbinary, Reader-Insert, Self-Harm, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 01:11:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13470558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceAlienBoy/pseuds/SpaceAlienBoy
Summary: I'll figure it out along the way.





	Voices

The burning sensation in your lungs from the smoke was addictive as you held your breath as long as you could stand it, exhaling the white smoke out into the cool night air, watching as it was whisked away by the wind and dissipated. The cigarette between your middle and ring finger was halfway gone, the tip glowed a deep orange as you inhaled another long hit, repeating the same action once again. The cold, New York night was full of bright lights and people wandering the streets as well as traffic. Even without the cigarette, you could see your breath in front of you. Dressed in a slightly ripped t-shirt, ripped jeans, high-tops and a beanie - the only thing keeping you (mentally) warm was the high you were beginning to get, relaxing against the cold metal of the ventilation fan on the roof. You shivered lightly and took another hit, closing your eyes as you felt the burn in your lungs.

The smoke left your lungs tingling as it dissipated. Opening your eyes, you smashed the rest of the burning cigarette against your arm, wincing at the slight sense of pain but sighed in relief. You flicked it off the roof as you stood, stretching and cracking your shoulders, wrists, and fingers. Shaking the sleepy feeling from yourself, you strode towards the edge of the roof, hands stuffed in your pockets. Hazy, e/c eyes glided over the city, not exactly searching for anything, hardly even focusing. Your feet slowly moved to turn your body - your back towards the edge of the roof. With slow movements, you tilted backward, closing your eyes as your feet left the roof. Your body fell heavily towards the ground, the wind deafening in your ears. You weren't anywhere near the populated streets, only within eyesight of it but out of their sight.

As the ground neared with every second, you counted.

1...

2...

3...

4...

You were within  32 feet of the ground, ten meters. No one else was on the street - it was deserted.

5...

Strong arms wrapped around your body, catching you before you hit the ground. They moved around a bit more, then set you down against a wall. Whoever caught you had retreated back to the shadows and out of your sight. They didn't leave, though. Their gruff, gravelly voice, almost growling, echoed through your head as they spoke, obviously annoyed.

"You need to quit doing that," they grumbled.

Opening your eyes, you slowly adjusted to the dark, barely any light leading into the alley. "But why?" You asked. Compared to them, your voice was sotto voce, quiet, but toneless. You were soft-spoken but only to them. To whoever saved you every time you fell from the building - purposely - you spoke softly and quietly but kept your flat tone. It neither went up or down nor showed any emotion. Around anyone else, your voice would be louder and still continuously toneless.

They huffed, growling, "Because what if I'm not there to catch you next time?"

The first time you fell, you weren't expecting anyone to save you; to catch you in midair and set you on the ground safely. The second time was a test to see if they would do it again - same timing as before - and they did. It seemed like a trust fall but deadly. If they didn't catch you, you'd be dead, not that you minded.

Crossing your arms and leaning against the wall, you shivered. "Then I would fall to my death. Is that a problem?" Just barely, your voice raised as you questioned them. To you, it wasn't a problem. If you died that would be on you but oh well. If you lived you would be left for dead or taken to the hospital to heal.

Sighing, they muttered in an undertone, "You just don't care, do you?"

You said nothing in reply, closing your eyes as you rested your head against the brick wall. Silence enveloped the both of you, the only noise that was heard over the soft wind being their breathing. You could see yours in the cold, a mist of white air flowing from your mouth and dissipating in the air. You were entranced by it; mostly like you were when smoking. The only reason you did was that the burn itself was addicting, the nicotine and other chemicals had no effect, it was the feeling of the hot smoke burning your lungs and throat, holding your breath for however long you could, then watching the smoke leave your mouth or nose was just as addicting.

A loud voice startled you out of thought. It wasn't whoever was hiding in the shadows, their voice was this loud or, well, high - in a sense. This one was gruff, husky, and orotund. They sounded somewhere behind the first person, or whoever, and still hidden in the shadows.

Shouting, "Raph," you could hear their voice waver as they had possibly noticed you. Refusing to acknowledge you, though, they continued to address 'Raph'. "You need to stop running off, we have a job to do."

Raph, as they were called, answered, "Well, if this one would stop falling from that building, I wouldn't run off as much!"

Instead of their words, and voice, being directed towards who was arguing with them, it was directed towards you, a low growl in his throat. As if he were talking through gritted teeth, his words were more forced, hissing at you.

You had relaxed now that you were aware that there were more than one there in the shadows. Your gaze remained on the wall in front of you, respecting the fact that they wished to remain unknown as you had no idea what they looked like or who they were.

Someone's breath hitched, a tight response coming from a third. "Purposely?" They faltered.

Focusing on their voice, this time you were more vocal about it - describing it out loud. "Smoky, silvery, soft-spoken, taut-"

"What are you talking about?" The one that had been speaking to Raph demanded with slight annoyance.

Raph answered for you. "Donnie's voice - they're describing it. They had done the same with me when I had first saved them."

"Wait, wait, wait!!" A fourth voice shrieked. The other three growled at them. "What's my voice sound like to you?"

Raising an eyebrow, you glanced at them from the corner of your eye, sighing and thinking about it. "Orotund... ringing..." It took a bit of thought to figure their's out. It was higher than the other, more, "bubbly - but that seems more of your personality than what your voice sounds like."

Hearing them hum in contemplation, you shifted against the wall.

"I have no idea what they mean - Donnie, what do they mean?" Their voice went softer as they spoke to 'Donnie' next to them.

Donnie, you guessed, sighed and answered. "Orotund means loud and clear. Ringing is the same definition, just a different way of saying it would be a bit louder than Orotund and ear-ringing. You're loud."

"They were loud when they had asked," you confirmed, "When you talk softer like you just did, it's more... fruity,  Still bubbly."

"'They'?" All four chorused.

You shrugged and moved your head to stare at the dark night sky. Under all the lights, you couldn't see any stars in the sky - maybe one or two really bright ones but that was it. "I'm not one to assume who's a boy and who's a girl. Mostly because people do it to me and it's the worst feeling ever."

Raph answered your unasked question. "Well, we're all guys so you don't have to worry about that."

Nodding, you silently thanked him, pushing off the wall. "If you need to go do... whatever you do. Go ahead." You didn't have anywhere to go, no home to go to, no family to spend time with. You were on your own wandering the streets and scavenging for food. 

"You better not go back up to that rooftop," Raph growled.

You could just feel the accusing finger being pointed at your back. With a smirk, you glanced at the shadows over your shoulder, just barely able to make out the large non-human shapes. "No promises, Raph," you replied, shoving your hands into your pockets and continuing to walk away.

Pulling the lighter from your pocket, you flicked it on a few times. It was easier than a new one as the child-safety bar thing had been taken off so there wasn't as much restriction as you continued to just flick it on and let the flame be blown out by the wind. It wasn't as mesmerizing as the smoke was but it kept your attention trained on it instead.

It took a few minutes but the begging and aching came back. The ache to feel some sort of pain. Now, you weren't a masochist - you didn't get off from pain, it wasn't that appealing to you - but the addiction to be in some sort of pain always made you feel better. At first, it was just a small tug, a small thought.  _Burn your arm._  The soft voice telling you to do it. Mentally, you could feel the burn on your arms as you had already gone through that pain enough to memorize what it felt like. Addicting is what it was. You were addicted to the pain of a burn. Knives and blades didn't appeal to you as much - their scares gave away what you did too easily. Way too easy could anyone figure out what you had done. Now, cigarette burns and lighter burns were a bit harder to depict as it could've been an abusive parent, maybe it was a skin condition. If anything, the burn was easier to treat and get rid of than a cut. There was someone you knew that helped with the burns and treated them, mostly without question. There was the occasional curiosity that would come from him but he (kinda) respected your space.

Casey Jones was someone you had known for a few years - before he was fired from his job - and he was aware of your evergrowing depression, anxiety, addiction and everything. He offered to get you help, you declined and he respected it but continued to try and offer his own help by talking to you about it. You made him swear to never tell authorities or anyone else; he agreed with one condition: the only reason he would shed light about it to anyone else was if you were in danger of harming yourself or others. You agreed and, so far, for the three years you'd been talking to him about it, he's told no one else.

Heading to his apartment, you stopped short at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall as you flicked the lighter on a few times, absentmindedly. His door was open and you could hear some voices - some arguing with others - drift through. The voices were familiar, as they were the ones you had heard not thirty minutes ago in the alley.  _So Casey knew them,_ you thought, blowing the flame from the lighter out.

Giving him a few more minutes, then sighing as the argument ceased to end. Pushing off the wall and shoving the lighter back into your pocket, with your hands, you strode over to the door and slipped in, glad he never really locked the door. The mahogany wood was covered with so many dents and scratches from all the knives Casey would carelessly throw at it - inevitably missing most times as only the hilt would hit it - as well as all the bottles that were thrown at it. Poor door. The door latched close silently, you leaning on it and watching as Casey, April and four pretty large mutant turtles argued. 

Well, two of them were arguing, the other two were pretty silent and just watching or trying to intervein and failing.

Quietly dragging the lighter out of your pocket, you smirked as you flicked it on with a soft  _click_. The apartment went dead silent, barely even a breath heard from the six of them. Casey's eyes locked with yours as you blew out the flame and stalked over to him, ignoring the mutants in the room.

"Y/n..." he muttered, dark brown eyes flickered back and forth between you and them.

By just a glance, everyone tensed up - ready to fight or flee but as you did nothing, they remained still.

With just a shrug, you nodded towards the four mutants, you replied calmly, "Learn to lock your door, Jones." And thrust your arm towards him, holding the sleeve down.

Casey sighed and took your hand, dragging you towards the bathroom. "Don't any of you dare leave - this isn't over yet." He softly shoved you into the small(ish) room, motioning for you to sit on the toilet as he grabbed some supplies. You lifted the sleeves, watching him with a blank stare and continuously messing with the lighter in your right hand. "Quit that," Casey growled, swiping the lighter form your hand, placing it on the counter and grabbing your wrist to keep your arm in place.

"Did I anger you?" You asked, tilting your head a bit to the side.

The boy sighed and shook his head, treating your burns. "You caught me at a bad moment but I'm not angry at you." He refused to look up, his brows creased in thought and anger, lips curled down - or pursed as he tended to unconsciously do that - as his jaw tightened, teeth grinding against each other as he bit his tongue to keep from saying something that was meant to be directed towards you. The look wasn't something you weren't familiar with - you'd seen him angrier before - but you remained silent as he treated the burns and dotted your arms with band-aids. Some were dark, some were colorful, others were just the plain tan ones. You smiled brightly at him, then your arms, wrapping them around his neck when he finished.

With a sigh, he hugged you back, a small smile dotting his lips. "Wait a few days for those to heal and the band-aids to come off before burning yourself even more, alright?" He whispered, rubbing your back.

You nodded, knowing that you might and might not be able to follow the orders. It was a 50/50 chance. Knowing yourself, you tended to have withdrawals from it. There were even times Casey wouldn't let you out of his sight until you healed. He was an over-protective brother to you. You were his rebel sibling. He knew this, knew what you did and where you usually were and he still refused to let you leave him. April, his girlfriend, had taken it upon herself to try and help you quit the self-harm (although futile). You would always kindly refuse her help, thanking her for the offer but still refused.

The living room contained hushed whispers (some of which weren't even whispers but barely even hushed) before you and Casey rejoined them. The second you were within sight, they shut up and eyed you.

Casey glared at the blue and red masked turtles, sitting beside you on the floor. "They're friendly and, considering they didn't scream or run when they say you -"

"- Or curse up a storm and jump away in fear," the blue-clad turtle hissed.

"- fuck off, Leo," Casey growled then continued, "This is Y/n."

The red-clad one had his arms crossed, his gaze remained locked with yours. "And we can trust them, how?"

You smiled a bit at him, closing your eyes as you tilted your head a bit. "Because I already know you, Raph."

He reeled back in surprise, tensing up. Leo and the other two exchanged looks before he spoke up. "How do you know him?"

"Easy. He saves me every time I fall off that roof. Plus, I spoke with you in the alley - I just couldn't see what you were or who you were. Didn't I describe, I believe it was, Donnie's and the other's voice?" 

The orange masked turtle bounced and raised his hand. "Yeah! That was me and Donnie and it was so cool how you did that!"

You smiled at him. "I had caught two of your names, only Leo and... bubbly were the one that wasn't spoken of there."

"Mikey," he introduced himself. "Why bubbly?"

"It's your personality. You seem to be a really bubbly person and that's all I could think of," you answered, "So, that would leave the purple masked one as Donnie."

Hearing his name, Donnie nodded and gave a small wave. He still said nothing, fixing his glasses and doing... something. You couldn't pinpoint what it was.

"If Casey trusts them, I'll trust them," Mikey cheered.

He earned some glares from his brothers. Leo replied, "Casey sometimes trusts the  _wrong_  people."

Casey huffed and rolled his eyes. "Yes because Y/n is gonna do so much wrong to you guys and steal your shit and betray us all."

"Really...?" Mikey's eyes widened and he started pouting.

"No, you ignorant fuck! It's sarcasm. I've known Y/n for years and so far, nothing they've done has hurt me, April, or anyone else." And pissed he was. Your eyes widened a centimeter as you glanced at him. It wasn't as normal for him to curse at anyone unless he was emphasizing something. Calling someone a bitch, fucker, or anything along those lines was a lot rarer than him stabbing someone - and he's gotten really close to it. "I trust and care for Y/n more than anything. You can dislike them or hate them or anything."

"Just don't hurt them," April finished, finally speaking up.

You smiled brightly at the four and held out your hand towards Leo, patient. He was hesitant about it, even after you spoke. "A truce. Doesn't have to be a friendship or anything else. I don't harm you or your brothers, you don't harm me. Neither will I speak of you to anyone else; Casey and April only." You proposed.

Leo grasped your hand, holding it tightly, although not enough to hurt you and nodded. "Deal."


End file.
